Page 38 of My High School Rebel Boyfriend
“Just helping with security,” he said. “You’re a member here?”
I shook my head. “Doubt it. My Dad works for Whittakers and it’s their fundraiser, but Dad twisted his ankle and couldn’t come.” I don’t think he was listening. His eyes were surveying me from top to toe. “Yeah, he’ll be on crutches for a while.”
“Yeah?” He smiled and a shiver ran down my spine. Not because I was freezing, but because there was something different about the way he was looking at me.
The cold air was stealing my breath, and I folded my arms tightly across my chest hoping to flatten the hairs that were standing on end on my exposed arm.
“Uh, looks like your Mom is waiting,” he said, and I glanced behind to see Mom draped beneath her coat cape.
“Yeah,” I said, “See ya.” I teetered on my heels. “Hey, are you out here all night?”
He pulled his hands out of his pockets and rubbed them together. “Yeah.” He laughed. “You better come and check on me later. Make sure I haven’t turned into a block of ice.”
I giggled and rushed to catch Mom. Had he been joking or did he mean that? Did he really want to see me later?
It didn’t take long to warm up once we were inside, and the music and the food and wine made for a festive atmosphere. I spent time on the dance floor with Bella and Jack, but I found myself thinking about Mitchell the whole time and wondering how he was doing in the cold.
If I thought Mom’s ways with my diabetes were overbearing, after a few wines they were downright overzealous. She’d made me consider every food choice at the smorgasbord and asked me the carbohydrate count on everything I was eating. Then she incessantly asked if I’d tested myself. Worse was that this was all done in a sing song voice:Harper, how many carbs in that salad? Harper, have you tested your blood sugars?When dessert was served at the buffet, it seemed like a good time to check on Mitchell. See if he’d really meant it.
The sweet treats looked delectable and I impulsively wrapped a few things in a napkin and slipped them into my purse. I could use the strawberry tarts and pastries as a reason. There were pockets of patrons outside smoking cigarettes, so I didn’t look too unusual in going out for some air.
Mitchell was easily located in the fluorescent jacket, meandering the perimeter of the parking area. He back tracked when he saw me coming.
“Hey,” he said. “How’s it going?”
“It’s okay,” I said. It didn’t feel right to say how opulent and grand it was when he had spent hours patrolling the parking lot, looking for who-knows-what. “You’re not frozen to death yet?”
“Not quite.”
“I brought you some snacks,” I said, “the food is pretty amazing.”
Mitchell’s eyes lit up. “Let’s go to my car. It’ll be warmer there.”
I followed him to a dark blue station wagon and he unlocked it with his beeper. He opened the passenger door for me, then hurried around to the driver’s side. He switched the inside light on.
“So, have you just been walking around all night?”
“Pretty much.”
“Watching for?”
“I have no idea,” he said, and we both laughed.
I unclasped my purse and brought out the first napkin of slightly squished pastries. He downed one in a mouthful.
“There’s so much food in there,” I said, “It’s crazy.” I offered him the next one.
“You don’t want it?”
“I already ate heaps,” I said, though I hadn’t indulged in any of the sugar laden treats. My will power wasn’t always strong but being in a figure hugging dress was certainly a great motivator. “Is this your car?”
“My Mom’s,” he said, scoffing the next two in a matter of seconds, “but she lets me drive it.”
“You’re lucky,” I said. I had gotten my learners permit but Mom was reluctant for me to drive, always stressing if I asked to borrow the car.
“You look-” Mitchell was interrupted by a hand slamming on my window. It caused me to almost jump out of my skin and for him to shout out an expletive. A face appeared and disappeared from the glass and the back door suddenly opened.
“What’s going on?” A man in a black security coat jumped in. An iciness hit the car and it wasn’t from the gush of cold air.
